French explosion imminent

There are many things that make me smile. They are called facial muscles. These were being exercised in a meaningful way when I awoke yesterday morning to nearly blue sky and some sunshine. How much better a place does England seem when the weather is decent. It is still chilly, but not for long. I have sent instructions to my tennis playing pals, who incidentally are almost all Currencies Direct clients down in France, the Wingco, Blind Lemon Milstead, Dancing Greg Harris and the Master Mariner Mundane, that I expect tennis and lunch thereafter to be properly organised for July 2nd, in the warm sunshine on my first full day in France of the summer. I have pointed out to all of them the signal failures in their organisational abilities some weeks earlier when I was back on a flying visit, when it all failed dismally. They know they were found wanting then and although in their hearts they will know they all have flimsy and unconvincing defences to the charges, they will not be pleased to be admonished by a grammar school boy (to a man they all went to public schools). I see it as my duty to pick out their weaknesses but have also have come to the conclusion that it is really difficult to keep everybody happy but really simple to piss everybody off.

Worthing viewed from The Cissbury Ring

My walk took me close to the Cissbury Ring, from where I took today’s picture, which could not possibly be twinned with Warningcamp (see columns passim). It is an ancient Iron Age fort dating from some 2300 years ago and is now owned by the National Trust. Basically, it is a 600 foot high oval-shaped hill of about 2 miles circumference with outstanding views out over the Sussex countryside and right down to the sea over Worthing. OK, geography lesson over, lets talk rock and roll.

Perhaps that is a bit of an exaggeration. John Otway has, I think this is the correct adjective, inflicted himself on a rather unwilling rock world since he exploded onto our TV sets in the late 70’s. My old pal has the press screening of his film Otway The Movie at the Roxy in London tonight, and, as I appear in the great work, I clearly need to be available to talk to the press. I had expected that to amount to Comedy Weekly, the Wimbledon Echo or something similar, but to my surprise both The Guardian and The Times have confirmed and even a few low-level celebrities are said to be attending, including Alexei Sayle. I shall need to prepare for the inevitable interview.

Before that, I shall be partaking of an extremely large breakfast after a 600 calorie diet day and a long walk yesterday. Without something substantial on board, if there is a strong wind, I could be blown into Kent before I know it. Never mind, just one more miserable diet day to go before September and that is planned for Thursday, and then I plan to undo all the good dietary work in a spectacular summer explosion of French wine and food.

The invitations have already begun to flood in: dinner in Valbonne Square on the 1st, a boat trip out to see the Cannes fireworks on the 4th with Roly and Poly Bufton, another boat trip on Bastille Day, 14th July with the Master Mariner, all of which will no doubt provide me with some great material for this diligently prepared daily insight into life in the coming weeks.

So, very shortly I shall be bidding Arundel a farewell for 6 weeks. I will miss the pubs and the beer and the people, but I shall not miss the weather. I may even play golf for the first time in a year, that being an activity which I have not been able to face in England due to the old po faced attitude at snobby golf courses, which for the most part are inferior to the courses where you can play in a relaxed fashion in France, and of course in decent weather.